An alternate version, a bit wordier; yet perhaps more descriptive?

Expression of the beauty of nature, water falling into an Autumn pool; yet perhaps comfort,  offered in the knowledge of life's eventual return, or of beauty serving to console us, in the time of life's withdrawal.

A poem in response to one of Basho's early verses.

a note to the feeling of wanting something all the more, after it is gone out of reach.

Perhaps more akin to senryu in terms of message, but nevertheless it is still a haiku, for there are some haiku which contain messages of the type commonly found in senryu, just as there are some senryu which contain messages most commonly found in haiku.

Though it may seem now that all my efforts have been in vain; that still am I prone to anger, to frustration, to depression, still I will continue on, on this path I have chosen; and one day, at paths end, I will find peace, and love.

A memory of sheltering from the rain under the low hanging branches of the trees while hiking the Appalachian trail.

An impromptu verse.

Listening to a light tune, my thoughts were caught completely up in its melody...so I wrote this verse.

sitting outside, I saw a styrofoam cup, left carelessly in the middle of the yard; and all around me birds were singing: so I composed this verse.

Waiting outside the auditorium, we were at last allowed in when about ten minutes had past. filing past, I heard a deep, rich note from where the students were tuning their instruments. It impressed me so much that my annoyance vanished, and I sat eagerly to hear the rest of the performance.

My attempt at Sabi. Its definition here: an understatement hinting at great depths.

Inspired so from yet another film of emotion, and final heartbreak. I understand that I must not allow grief to rule me; must not allow myself to become lost in the tragedies of life, if I would ever again come to joy in the simple moments of life's pleasure...would ever perhaps come to love, to peace...still, I must grieve, at least now. Forgive my ramblings...I am heart-sore, and tired, spent. I hope you will not judge these words too harshly; they are made in emotion, but perhaps not refined, as I should normally make them, before I let them go.

Composed in response to the lyrics of the main theme of the film Princess Mononoke, composed by Joe Hisaishi.

While waiting for work in my part time job, I stood in front of the cutlery cupboard and noticed an u usually fresh and clean air. After breathing this for awhile, my anxiety left me, and I grew calm. So, this verse.

A sketch, perhaps a metaphor.

Recently I saw while on a walk two seedpods; one lay cracked and empty, while the other was whole still. There were no other seedpods about, except high in the tree. This struck me as so poignant a scene, that I could not help but write this verse around it.

with the passing of time, to some recollections there comes a greater richness, and depth; and this is because he who views these things has grown, though in what way it may be hard to determine. But even the smallest of steps forward yet is a step forward, and, with the will to be, that is all that is necessary.

Coming to the door late, after a nights work, I found it locked. Before entering the other way, I looked up, and all the stars were burning, marvelous in their number, and in their light.

I have not written or given much thought to poetry for about nine days, or near enough, as far as I can reckon it. It is time to put away the dreams of the past, and of the future, and to live in truth, in the present.

a moment of beauty seen while walking swiftly to my next appointment. I  know that it does not adhere to the rule of 5 7 5, but, as you may learn, this matters not, so much as the simple rule; to be able to say all in a single breath.

sometimes through disuse, for a little while, those things we thought familiar and essential are shown to us, perhaps and perhaps not so; and in either case in a new and unexpected light.

that which is careworn, old, mended, lacking in some way from the ideal of perfection...these may by some be accounted as perfect in another way, for the express reason of their flaws.

Eating a number of dried plums. Their seeds were bright and orange, but they will not grow. I cast them on the ground, to do what they will.

Striving for focus, and a clear eye, in order to mark the Herald's approach.